


Black, Two Sugars

by lookoutlovers22



Series: Well Aware: The Miniseries [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternative Universe - No Voldemort, Are You Proud of Me?, Coffee Shops, Draco was on the swim team, F/M, Harry and Draco are fuck buddies, Idiots in Love, Masturbation, Mild Smut, Minor Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Minor Luna Lovegood/Ron Weasley, Muggle AU, Non-magical AU, Not Proofread, Oblivious Hermione, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Swim Team Captain Harry Potter, University AU, We Die Like Men, coffee shop AU, of course they are, yes i did that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27415585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookoutlovers22/pseuds/lookoutlovers22
Summary: Hermione takes her coffee black with two sugars — Draco notices.He notices a lot of things about her, actually.In which Draco is a prat that needs to shoot his shot, and Hermione Granger is as studious as ever.Also known as the Alternative Version of Well Aware, a story written by yours truly.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Well Aware: The Miniseries [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724506
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	Black, Two Sugars

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Well Aware](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23908696) by [lookoutlovers22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookoutlovers22/pseuds/lookoutlovers22). 



> As always, I don't own Harry Potter (unfortunately). Here is the alternative version of the story — I don't know if I like it better or not.
> 
> And in usual Emma fashion, I have not proofread this... sigh.
> 
> —Emma

Draco has much to learn when it comes to the art of subtlety - case in point, the way he's staring at Hermione Granger right now.

The woman in question was going in between typing something furiously on her laptop and scribbling something on her notebook. Draco sighs as he sets his chin atop his hand, and pouting. She was just never going to notice him, it was utterly infuriating.

"Are you trying to get her to combust or something?" asks Pansy. "How about you go and talk to her?"

Draco blinks twice then turns his head towards Pansy, groaning inwardly. She just rolls her eyes as he bites his tongue. Be himself? It was almost like she was unaware that entailed crippling narcissism and a sense of entitlement and like... a really unfounded superiority complex. He sets his hand down and glares at her, shaking his head.

Pansy pointedly ignores the fact that his spoiled brat was showing and takes a sip of her sickly sweet sugary coffee concoction _thing_ , one that Draco would never admit to craving, and fixes her bangs.

"And surely you would know how to impress her?" Draco all but sneers. "Besides, she's not exactly the type to be impressed by-" he huffs, "-whatever archetype of dark triad I have going on."

"Which is exactly why she won't like your pretentious bravado." says Pansy. "And seriously, 'dark triad'? Who are you, Tom Riddle?"

"I like to think that this is kind of one of the things that I take seriously but it seems like you're only here to take the piss-"

"Look, you're marginally attractive and maybe if you were a bit nicer she would notice you-" interrupts Pansy. "You're intelligent. Witty. Kind of annoying but that's - besides the point. I happen to think you're a catch. I would shag you if I was into... guys."

"Precisely my point. If she liked me she would have said already - she doesn't exactly beat around the bush, does she?" says Draco as he slouches further into his chair. "Besides, father wouldn't approve."

"Since when did you care if your father approved or not?" asks Pansy. "Last time I checked you were on good terms."

"We are in good terms, I'm just-"

"Approval starved? Just looking for excuses so you wouldn't have to deal with the fear or rejection?"

"Rejection from my father?" Draco scoffs and rolls his eyes. He was literally a spoiled brat... hello? "Don't be ridiculous."

"I was thinking more along the lines of rejection from Hermione Granger, but whatever floats your boat."

Draco doesn't reply and instead thinks about the conversation he'd had with his father on the phone where he so candidly asked how university was going and _oh, how is your darling Granger doing? We heard about one of her achievements on the telly last night - yes, very brilliant girl despite her heritage._

He was absolutely mortified. Even his _parents_ knew about his crush on Granger. They knew enough to pay attention to the news on the fucking _telly._

So what if his father was impressed by _Miss Granger's many outstanding achievements and excellent research work_? So what if he said that _I'm really hoping you're courting the girl properly - it might be 2020 but people of our class are still expected to do hold some type of propriety_? So what if he told Draco that he should just _ask the damned woman out already because your mother is beside herself with planning betrothal gifts?_ So what if Pansy was right and he was just letting his fear of rejection cloud his usually impeccable judgement?

Whatever.

Draco's gaze shifts back unto Hermione, who has now received her black coffee. The pen falls from her grasp as the disgustingly handsome waiter smiles at her while fixing his glasses. Draco wasn't living under a rock - he'd known they were friends. Sees them around a lot actually, they go to the same university he does. But jealousy still stirs in his stomach as said disgustingly handsome waiter ruffles Hermione's already atrocious hair as the glasses slip from his nose. The boy's hands slide the offending item back on the top of his nose and Draco visibly inhales. His _hands_.

God, that boy has nice hands.

Pansy notices this and snickers into her coffee cup. "Seriously, Potter?" said she, and Draco slouches into his chair even more, arse almost falling off the edge.

"It's not fair. They're both so attractive." Draco mumbles, sniffling. Taking a sip of his disgu-delicious! Delicious and _tasteful_ black coffee, the waiter passes their table and Draco gets a view of his glorious arse. Pansy audibly sighs, and Draco snaps his eyes back to her.

"Well, I mean... and he's in the swim team too, isn't he?" Pansy asks. "Team Captain Harry Potter."

Okay, so admittedly it wasn't one of his brightest ideas to have a... sexual relationship with one of Granger's best friends. But it couldn't be helped - especially not with Potters habit of wearing those sinfully small trunks to training. And now Potter was hunched over the cash register with his arms on the counter, hands clasped together and smirking arrogantly at Draco. He winks.

Draco smirks back, and stands up abruptly. "If you'll excuse me."

Pansy follows his line of sight and gasps.

"You're fucking _Potter?_ You slippery little bitch." She shakes her head. "Oh my God."

Draco only winks at her, and she snorts and then pretends to dab at her mouth with a napkin. "This isn't one of your better ideas."

"Couldn't be helped." Draco says, sighing. He walks over to the handsome waiter and whispers something into his ear, and they walk out the backdoor.

"Oh, that little shit." Pansy sighs. "You tell him one thing and then he fucks shit up."

Hermione watches as they leave, and sips her coffee. Damn Harry, she thinks. Damn him for conspiring with the enemy.

The next day at the cafe, Potter is visibly wincing with every step he takes. Well, visible to Draco and Pansy and Granger anyway. Hermione giggles, actual fucking giggles that make Draco inhale sharply and almost joke on his coffee, when Potter walks over to her table with her coffee again. He groans inwardly.

"So, she knows I fucked Potter and now she's _giggling._ " Draco mopes. Pansy gives him a calculating look, but he doesn't notice. He was too busy looking out the window.

"Are you only fucking Potter to get Granger to notice you?" She asks. Draco turns his head to look at her. "Because I think that boy likes you."

Draco furrows his brows and crosses his arms. "What Potter and I have is a consensual non-romantic sexual relationship. He's made that pretty clear to me."

She cocks her head to the side, and motions for him to continue. "We fuck, Pansy, that's it. He doesn't like me."

"Do you like _him_?" She asks.

Draco considers this for a moment. The thing was he did like Potter, back when he didn't notice Granger yet. Around two years ago Potter could have smiled in his direction and he would have came in his pants. But it was past tense, and he didn't really think of Potter like that. And he was pretty sure that Potter had a thing for Pansy's bandmate, Theo Nott.

So no, he didn't like Potter. Anymore.

He shakes his head, "No, and I think he has a thing for Nott." He moves to take a sip of his black coffee.

Pansy crosses his arms, "So how's the sex?"

...and promptly chokes on it. He sets the cup down and wipes his face with a napkin as Pansy smirks at him.

"It's good, he's very - fit."

" _Fit_?" Pansy says blandly. "What even?"

Draco looks at her pointedly and rolls his eyes. "He has... a lot of stamina from all of the laps."

"Hmm, I bet he really liked all of those... laps."

"Oh my God, Pans, shut up-"

"Nggggnnhh, Malfoy - yeah, just like that!"

"Pansy!"

"Yeah harder, faster-"

"Uh huh, yeah, _goodbye_." Draco says, finishing his coffee and looking at his watch. Just enough time to walk to class and get himself settled.

He stands up, and grabs his coat, turning around without even looking at his surroundings - and bumps promptly into Hermione Granger. Warm coffee spills over the front of her shirt and some gets into his leather loafers.

For a moment what's happened doesn't register to him. But then, he is mortified, and Granger's face turns an angry shade of red.

"Granger, I'm so sorry-" He starts, but then she is whimpering pitifully and shaking her had, trying to white her shirt off with a napkin.

"It's - fine." She says in a state of panic. "I should have been - looking where I was going - I -"

Draco moves to give her his coat, and sees Pansy's mirthful expression out the corner of his eye. Fucking bitch.

"Here - you can have my coat-"

"Oh no, it's fine, really just - I'll ask Harry for a spare shirt, you don't need to-" She snaps her mouth shut. "-but thank you."

She moves quickly to Potter, as he stands in place with sticky shoes. He runs his fingers through his hair, rubs his eyes and sighs.

"Fuck."

* * *

Draco had classes the next morning, and as he and Granger were taking the same course, they saw a lot of each other. He has made it his mission to find her and apologize for spilling coffee down her shirt. It was the prudent thing to do.

After their shared Sociology lecture, Draco hurriedly packs his things into his ugly — albeit expensive leather messenger bag. So much was his rush that when he finally reached Granger, his feet skid on the floor and he took a little tumble and tripped unto her back. Thank God he didn't trip her _over_ , as that would've been even more mortifying.

"Oh fuck." Granger says, gasping as she regains her balance. She turns around and scowls when she sees Malfoy there. "One might think you're doing all this on purpose."

Draco scowls and shakes his head, posture defensive. "It was an accident Granger — I was actually going to—"

"What? Trip me harder so that I actually trip next time?" Hermione says as she picks up her fallen water bottle.

"—apologize. Stop being silly, I'd never trip anybody on purpose." Except that he was lying and he most definitely would, and had.

"Right, you wouldn't." She says. Draco frowns.

"No..." he says carefully. He observes as she straightens up again and looks at him. "I actually came to apologize for yesterday."

"You mean when you spilled coffee all over my shirt?" Draco winces.

"Well, yes." Granger cocks her head to the side and frowns.

"I told you it was fine — it was just an accident."

Draco smirks and cocks his head to the side. "I still feel that it's... prudent to apologize."

Granger sighs, "It's alright. Now I really do need to go, goodbye Malfoy."

She starts to walk away, but with a burst of courage Malfoy steps forward and grabs one of Granger's hands. "Wait."

Granger freezes and looks at their hands. Damn him. "Yes, Malfoy?" She says, and it comes out sounding more aggressive than she meant it to.

"Right — uh, sorry, you have places to be I just—" He hopes this doesn't come back to bite him in the arse. He exhales. "Since I spilled your coffee all over you, I would like to buy you one. Later, I mean."

Granger blushes prettily, shakes her head and says, "Sure. Later then."

Draco's heart could burst in his chest, and he softly drops her hand, smiling. "Yes, later."

* * *

"Pansy, you'll never guess what just happened." Draco says as he takes a sit in front of her at their usual table. He was feeling quite proud of himself after asking Granger to join him for coffee later, and his day had gone spectacularly after that.

Theo Nott was seated beside Pansy today, drinking his tea as he read a book about was was probably politics, as it was written by that utter sociopath Tom Riddle. He looks up at Draco as he sits down and offers him the tiniest smile and nod as he places his book back down on the table. Draco looks at his tea and sighs, "Honestly, Theo. Who goes to a coffee shoppe and buys a tea?"

"Coffee is for the weak and the uncultured." He sniffs disdainfully as Potter places coffee down at the table. The barista yelps as Theo says this, at which point Draco smirks at him then at Pansy.

"I beg to disagree, and I know for a fact Potter does too." Draco drawls. Potter looks at him and glares.

"Malfoy..." he says warningly.

"Well, it would be kind of suspicious if he agreed. He _is_ a barista after all..." Theo says, placating. He looks at Potter appreciatively, "...and since I'm not a total snob, like our ickle Draco over here—"

"Hey!"

"—I'm open to being convinced."

Draco looks at Pansy, smirking in an _I told you so_ way.

And so Theo and Potter are hanging around the counter when Pansy asks, "So, what happened that I won't believe... or something."

Draco grins at her proudly, and says, "Well, I offered to buy Granger a coffee today. She should be showing up any minute now."

She hums, "So you finally took my advice?"

Draco only nods in agreement, even though he didn't take her advice, not really. "Yes. I apologized to her about spilling her coffee and offered to buy her another one to compensate."

Pansy looks at him, crossing her arms. "Well that went better than I expected it to."

Draco hums, "Almost too well." They both look at Theo and Potter near the counter, wearing matching smirks.

It was odd seeing the two boys together — Theo hair was a lighter shade of brown than Potter's black hair, and while Potter had the worst posture Draco's eyes had every graced, Theo stood with a casual elegance, back straight and shoulders pulled back. It seemed that he was trying to get Potter all flustered — which wasn't really hard to do, really. It seems they were a good match.

"I say that they get together before the semester's over." Pansy says, smirking. "They seem to be getting on well."

Draco hums, nodding. "I say they get it on when Potter's shift ends."

Pansy frowns then, considering it. "Well—"

But Draco didn't get to hear what Pansy was going to say. The door chimed, and in came Granger with her hair in a bun... with a certain redhead trailing behind her. Pansy gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

Draco's blood boiled.

"I thought—" She started. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Obviously she though otherwise." He sighed. "But it's alright, just... whatever."

He stands up and fixes his shirt, brushing off invisible dust. Pansy looks up at him, frowning. "What are you planning on doing?"

Draco looks at the pair getting settled on Granger's usual table. What _was_ he planning on doing? It wasn't as if he had asked her on a date or anything, although he certainly thought she had gotten the memo. So as it was, it was currently on him. That didn't mean he had to like it.

"I'll just be completely hostile and hope he goes away."

Pansy pales, "What — Draco, no—"

But Draco wasn't listening, he was already on his way towards the counter. Theo and Potter stop talking, as he hands the latter a bill while gritting out Granger's usual order. He felt like ripping all of his hair out.

 _Ron Weasley._ He knew the prat — unfortunately. His mother was a Prewett, a notable family, of course. She had married a Weasley, new money. The youngest son in a family of seven, kind of a blundering fool — he was the bane of Draco's existence.

He met him at various balls and galas, and he was always with his parents and his absurdly ginormous family, but they just never got along. Draco wouldn't say that he hated Weasley because he barely new the man, but he still—

_Why does he have to be so annoying?_

He walks towards the back of Granger's seat and taps her on the shoulder.

"Hullo, Granger." he says as she turns around. She smiles at him, and motions to the seat next to her.

"Malfoy! This is Ron, by the way. I hope you don't mind — he's my best friend. We're going to be studying later."

Weasley nods, as Draco puts on a fake smile. "Yes, I believe we've met before. A Weasley, yes?"

Weasley hums, "Yes — well, actually a Prewett-Weasley, technically, since my parents hyphenated, but I prefer going by Weasley."

Granger looks at the both of them, pensive, and nods. "Well, I'll be off to wash my hands, but I'll be right back."

She stands up and walks to the bathroom, leaving the two of them alone. At this point, Weasley promptly drops the smile that he's wearing and openly scowls at Draco.

"I don't know what you're doing, Malfoy, but leave Hermione alone."

Draco cocks an eyebrow, and lets out a soft _oh?_ as Weasley continues, "She may not seem like, but she's entirely too trusting and—"

"Are you saying Granger is a poor judge of character, Weasley?" He asks blandly, blood boiling. Weasley rolls his eyes, cheeks going a bit red.

"No, and stop trying to put words in my mouth. What I'm saying is that 'Mione is nice, and that she tends to try to always look in the good side of things — and quite frankly, Malfoy, I know what your family's like... you're all a bit..." He trails off.

Draco scoffs, "Slimy?" And Weasley winces.

"...suspicious." He says, clasping his hands together. "Don't get me wrong, you seem like a decent bloke—"

Draco gulps, "I know what you mean, Weasley. I don't mean to cause her any... harm."

Weasley looks at him shrewdly, and hums. "Good." He says quietly. "Because if you do, you best hope we don't find you."

"Are you threatening me, Weasley?"

His lips set into a straight line, and he cocks his head to the side. "I would never presume that you would feel... threatened, Malfoy. Consider it a warning."

The chair next to them scrapes against the floor, and Granger promptly sits back down. "Right, you guys seem to be getting along. Is everything fine, Ron? You seem to be a bit red."

Weasley shakes his head and smiles at her. "Yes, it's alright 'Mione."

* * *

A while later, Hermione has gone to retrieve something from her dorms. Him and Weasley have gotten along famously from Hermione's perspective, but on the inside Draco's anger has just been stewing.

 _A warning._ As if he could dare tell him what to do.

"I see the way you look at her, you know." Weasley starts. "Back off. I don't want her to get hurt."

"I would never hurt her." Draco grits out. "I would never do whatever you think I'm going to do."

Weasley narrows his eyes at him. "Really? Because I received the most interesting news last night. Something about a betrothal to be made between the Greengrass and Malfoy families."

Draco grits his teeth. "What are you trying to say, then?"

"I know you like Hermione, but as it is, I think you're about to be engaged to Astoria Greengrass, and I don't want my best friend getting hurt."

"It would do you well to not believe in rumors, Weasley." Draco spits out. "I have not been informed of a betrothal, or whatever the fuck you are insinuating."

"Back _off,_ Malfoy." Weasley says, voice low. "Back off or I swear to God—"

Draco abruptly stands up. "I'm going to go, and you are not to tell Granger about a betrothal that I know not a single word about. The fact is that she doesn't _want_ me Weasley, so all your posturing — nonsense—"

"—are you kidding me, it's so painfully obvious—"

"We are done here, goodbye."

He walks out the door and heads home.

* * *

Draco has been sulking ever since the cafe incident. It was nothing really, he just felt a splitting sensation in his chest and was _not_ in the mood to do anything but sleep at home. But alas, he needed to write an essay for History of Psychology —which was coincidentally one of the class he shared with Granger.

Pansy called him earlier during the day, saying that she had a gig coming up at eight in the evening and couldn't meet up with him later at the cafe. So Draco took this as an opportunity to go to the library and get an early start to his work. Much to his great dismay, he could not possibly brood in the library today. No, he couldn't possibly just brood as Hermione fucking Granger was in the library as well.

Grumbling, Draco sits at a table at the opposite side of the library. He hums a tune as he does his work.

And then Hermione struts to his table.

Draco is alarmed and fiddles with his pen as he purposefully ignores her and starts to concentrate on his notes. No, he isn't thinking about the fact that she looks absolutely hot when she's mad. Of course not.

"I think we need to talk." Hermione says, grasping his arm tightly. "Ron seemed pretty adamant that we — talk."

Draco puts his pen down gingerly and turns around to look a her. "You don't seem like the type to take orders from your friends.

"Don't be such an arse." She puts her stuff down on his table and sits down. With him. At his table. He thinks he might die.

He grits his teeth.

"We're in a library. I don't think we're supposed to talk."

Granger glares at him. "I think I deserve an explanation for why you left so abruptly last night."

"Don't be so dramatic—"

"Don't _patronize_ me, Malfoy." She hisses. Draco looks at her then, frowning.

"I'm not."

"Ron was quite upset with me last night. He left saying I needed to sort out whatever was in the way of you and I don't know what happened between the two of you, but it seems like it's me that needs to smooth it out."

Draco snaps his mouth shut and rolls his eyes, "Do you usually smooth out conflicts between your friends?"

"You're not my _friend_ , Malfoy."

He flinches and looks away then, "Right." He coughs. "Right."

His heart feels like it's about to split inside his chest.

Granger bites her lip, "I didn't mean that."

Draco shakes his head and nods, "Well, we haven't really... we don't really speak much. I expected it, I mean. But whatever Weasley thinks is going on with me, or us, I don't—"

"He seems to be under the impression that you're not good for me." Granger says blandly, "Something along those lines."

"Oh." Draco nods, "Okay. What do you want to do about it?"

She smirks, and he feels himself twitch in his pants. _Fuck._ "Well, I'm quite upset with Ron. I think I might just befriend you or something."

Draco lets out a quiet laugh, "Oh."

" _Oh._ "

They spend the next hour or so studying in silence, and Draco observes the way that she writes her notes, uses her pen to guide where she's reading. The light caresses her caramel hair, making it look almost golden in the sunlight, and he thinks that Weasley is quite possibly right—

He _is_ bad for her.

* * *

Draco didn't have classes the next day, so he kind of lets himself go at the very conveniently placed open bar. It wasn't intentional, but if he was supposed to endure their god awful music, he might as well indulge. Maybe that was the reason there was an open bar, to distract them from whatever type of noise was coming out of those instruments.

When they finish their set, Pansy and Theo pack up their instruments. He thinks he sees Potter's black hair near their van, but it was too dark to make sure.

He leans against a post, humming something akin to one of their songs, and throws his head back to the sky, eyes closed.

Pansy, walks up to him and takes his hand, trying to guide him to her car. He puts his other hand out, stopping her. He left like the room was spinning.

"Nggnnnhh, stop, fucking... dizz-dizz..." He says, "The room is fucking spinning, dear fucking God."

"You're hammered." Pansy says mirthfully, "Come on, Draco, let's get you home."

"No, I wanna finish uni." Draco says, on the brink of crying. "Don't — don't send me back to the manor _oh my God_ I wanna finish university, nononono."

"I meant to your apartment."

Draco almost threw up twice during the car ride home. Half of it had to do with Pansy's driving, and the other half had to do with all of the whiskeys he drank. Yes, he knows it was a bad idea. No, he will not remember it in the morning.

"—and so I said—" Draco was feeling the full effects of the alcohol as Pansy dumped him unto his couch. "—this is a library, I don' think we're s'pposed to talk. But anyways, irrevelent — no I meant, ir-re-le-vant. Irrelevant! She said she wanted to... befriend me. She'so nice."

"Too nice for you, exactly." Pansy sighs.

"Reckon she likes me?"

"Reckon she doesn't." Pansy mutters. Draco starts crying again.

"She does! She totally does, she sat wi'me at the lib'rry today, she'said she wan'ed to be me friend—" He flings his arm out.

Pansy huffs at the arm that flung to her arm. Really, the last time Draco got this pissed was the first year of university. She thought he would've learned his lesson by then.

"Draco, shut up or she'll hear you crying. She literally lives across the hall."

"She does? Lemme tell 'er that I love 'er before I go to bed — s'what friends do."

Pansy sees no reason to stop him. She's a good friend, really, but her patience can only take so much.

Draco knocks on Hermione's doorstep ten times before she opens the door, hair wild and rubbing her eyes. She was just studying, and she really didn't like getting interrupted. She was going to tell whoever this was to piss off but _of course it's Malfoy_ literally who _else could it be?_

"Malfoy—"

"Hermione, I love you lots." Draco proclaims as he wobbles on his knees. "Wo—ah!" He puts both his hands on Hermione's shoulders, and she tenses up when she smells the alcohol on him. He was drunk.

"Malfoy—"

"As I was'saying 'fore I got int'rrupted," he glares at his legs like he's trying to force them into submission, and they give a pitiful wobble. He huffs and looks Hermione in the eye. She feels mildly amused and highly concerned. "I like you lots — acres, cubic meters — no not meters uhhhhh _kilometers_ , yeah."

"Draco—"

"Ooooh, you called me _Draco._ " he leans in to whisper into her ear. "Yes, _Hermione_?"

She feels a stir in the pit of her stomach, but doesn't think about what it could possibly mean.

Pansy decides enough is enough, and finally reaches out to take Draco's arm under hers. Hermione shuffles from foot to foot in the hallway, then decides to close her door and follow the pair into his room.

A thousand thoughts flit into her mind then, about Ron would be mad at her for _consorting_ with Malfoy, or how Harry and this man had been fucking for the better part of five months. She doesn't know what to _do._

Parkinson lays Draco's head down her lap and runs her fingers through his hair, and Hermione awkwardly sits down on the other couch, looking at them thoughtfully. She'd always known she and Draco were quite close, having always seen them at the coffeeshoppe, but it was another thing here seeing Parkinson stroke Draco's hair carefully, humming a little tune. It felt like she was intruding on something.

"Do you know he meant it, Granger?" She asks.

Hermione looks to Parkinson from Draco's face. She frowns, feigning ignorance. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

_"He's a prat, '_ _Mione_ _, just trust me. He's going to break your heart."_

Parkinson looks at her like she's irritated, and huffs, looking back down to where her hands were stroking Draco's hair.

_"He's betrothed to somebody else, it would do you well to just forget about him."_

"I know you... heard about the betrothal rumors from Weasley. Everyone has." Parkinson nods, tracing circles in Draco's hair. "But the truth it, Draco's parents are quite happy to let him choose whoever he desired. The Greengrasses — they just wanted to secure a—uhm..."

"What are you trying to say Parkinson?" Hermione says, head growing warmer.

_"He doesn't like you, '_ _Mione_ _. I just don't want to let you get hurt by — them."_

Parkinson looks at her, face fierce. "I'm trying to say that you're doing yourself a disservice by believing those petty rumors. It's true that the Greengrasses reached out for a betrothal between Astoria and Draco—"

"I don't see what this has to do with me." Hermione states blandly.

"You obviously have feelings for him." Parkinson states boldly. "You obviously like him. But the Malfoys refused the betrothal — it's not happening."

Hermione blushes and looks away. "Oh."

Parkinson smirks, "Oh." She sighs and puts a throw pillow under Draco's head, standing up. "As it is, I have some important arrangements tomorrow morning that I can't skip. Do you mind checking up on him?"

"No, uhm — yeah, I'll check up on him."

"Excellent, thank you... Hermione."

Hermione follows Parkinson out the door, moving to lock it behind her, when she feels the impulsivity to go back in.

So five minutes, two pillows, and a blanket later, she does. She slips in through the front door and sleeps on the adjacent couch.

You could never be too sure, after all.

* * *

To say that Draco was shocked to find Hermione Granger asleep on the couch opposite him when he woke up was an understatement. But as interesting as that line of thought seems at the moment, he had more pressing matters, namely the fact that he's about to vomit and the raging hard on that's in his trousers.

He runs to the bathroom and promptly throws up the contents of the past day's meal. He feels _disgusting,_ effectively banishing his erection.

After he flushes the toilet, he sits down on the floor with his back to the wall. Closes his eyes, his neck to the ceiling. He thinks about the woman on his couch, and starts to prepare for any eventual apology he has to give to her.

He shouldn't have gotten pissed last night. Not only could he not remember a single thing, but he also reckons he must have done something embarrassing as he always does. _That_ and the fact that he couldn't remember inviting Hermione to his flat, much less even getting into his own flat, though he suspected Pansy was behind that one.

When he wanders out the living room, he sees that Hermione is still asleep. He decides to take a shower and maybe cook breakfast before she wakes up.

He goes to his bedroom and picks up clothes, his towel and — after much deliberation — his glasses, and goes back into his bathroom.

After taking off his clothes, he steps into the shower and turns the shower on to the perfect temperature, sighing when the warm water hits his skin.

He closes his eyes and thinks about the woman on his couch. He wonders about how she ended up in his flat. He wonders why he didn't just shake her awake and kick her out — it was alarming, having her there in his flat, close enough to touch—

 _Fuck,_ his cock twitched at that, and he inhales pitifully, running his fingers through his hair. He feels almost dirty, thinking about Hermione like that, when she's just outside in his living room, hair strewn around his couch.

And he wants to touch her, wants to taste — wants her to trap her thighs around his head as he runs his tongue on the seam of her cunt. She probably tasted exquisite, and he wondered if she would be wet for him, if she would moan out his name.

His cock was fully hard now, and he lets his hand travel down the slope of his chest, and it stops on top of his throbbing member. He wonders if he should do this — she doesn't deserve a bloke who rutted into his hand like a dirty animal to twisted fantasies of her — but he just couldn't help it. He needed it, needed _her._

He wraps his hand around his cock, and gasps. He pumps up once, twice, and swirls his thumb to catch the precum around the head. He moans and thinks about the way she was laying on top of his couch, legs wrapped around the pillow in her waist. He wonders what it would be like with her thighs wrapped around his waist, him thrusting up into her tight hot heat, imagines her screaming out his name. He wonders if she liked getting choked, and _fuck_ if he didn't want to wrap her hands around her dainty little throat.

He grips his cock harder in his hand, going up and down in a torturous pace. His gasps and groans filled the bathroom, and he closes his eyes as he imagined how tight her little cunt would get as he cut off her air, how hot her little gasps would be when she finally came on his cock, if she would scream against his fucking couch—

He comes. He comes so hard he feels like he could see stars, and all the tension drains out of his body as he forces his eyes to open, when he sees his cock spurt out white ribbons unto the wall of the shower and on his hands, his abdomen, his thighs.

He pumps himself slowly, riding out his orgasm, and growls as his lets go of his cock as if it were on fire and starts vigorously washing his hair.

* * *

After washing himself and getting dressed, he goes out to the living room to find Hermione already up, throwing her hair into a ponytail and smiling at him. He's struck with the gravity of her smile, and the fact that he just came into his fist less than fifteen minutes ago to the thought of her. His dick gives an interested twitch.

"Good morning, Granger." He drawls, nodding towards her from his place near the kitchen. "Would you like a cup of tea? maybe we can discuss how much of a fool I made of myself last night?"

He sees her flush, and feels the embarrassment flood in his body again, "Uh, so you remember what happened last night?"

Draco looks at her blandly, and says, "No."

"Oh." Hermione says lightly, smiling. "Yes, I would like a cup of tea."

Draco gets the pot boiling and sets out to make two cups of tea. He asks Granger how she likes hers — _"Two sugars, no milk."_ — and they get settled on the island. Hermione is sitting on top of one of the stools, feet dangling off of the edge. Draco is standing in front of her, elbows on the island, taking a slow sip of his tea.

"So, mind telling me why I woke up to find you sleeping on one of my sofas?" He asks, frowning.

Hermione blushes, and distantly, Draco thinks about how he could get used to that. "Well, Pansy told me to check on you in the morning, so I just decided that maybe I should just... stay the night."

She says the last part quietly, but Draco stills hears it and hums. "Well, how did that come about?" Draco shakes his head. "I doubt Pansy would go knocking at your door."

She inhales like she's trying to hold off a laugh. "Right." She says. "Well, actually _you_ came knocking on my door."

Now it was Draco's turn to blush. He hides behind his mug, taking another sip.

He swallows, "Oh uhm, well... what happened?"

Hermione laughs. "Well, if you must know... You then proceeded to take me by the shoulders."

He pales. "I'm sorry—"

"No, don't apologise. You didn't do anything wrong." Hermione nods. "Then you said you liked, it was all very funny."

Draco felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. No way was he that stupid, but he supposes Hermione didn't really think that he meant it, just drunk babbling. It still didn't help the fact that he was absolutely mortified.

"Oh. Well then..."

Hermione nods, "Yes..."

"Well, I have no explanation for that, but I _do_ like you. I think you're good... company." Draco swallows, and Hermione gives him a half smile.

"I think you're good company too, Draco." Hermione says, then rolls her eyes. She finishes up her tea and then stands up, stretching and yawning.

"Well, I need to go now, Draco. Thank you for the tea and the... company." She winks, and Draco's dick stirs. He smirks at her.

"See you later, Granger."

* * *

That same afternoon, Draco goes to the coffeeshoppe to see that not only is Pansy not there yet, but Hermione was. She was sitting in her usual table with her work strewn all around her, taking a slow sip of her coffee. There was a mug across from her.

She looks up when the door chimes, and smiles up at him. "Draco!"

He smiles at her, feels lucky that he has the privilege of having her smile up at him like that, and walks over to her table. He sits down across from her, and pulls out his study things when she gestures towards the mug in front of them.

"I bought you your usual. Black with two sugars, right?"

He's shocked that she noticed, but hums in agreement. She doesn't miss a thing, does she? "Yes, but between you and I, I don't really like it."

Hermione purses her lips, "Oh?"

Draco nods solemnly, "Frankly, I only drink it like this because _you_ do."

Hermione blinks at him and laughs. Draco pouts. "What?"

Hermione tries to stifle her laughter, "Well — I drink it like this because _you_ do."

Now that's a concept.

"That's just—" he huffs. "—this is diabolical. I've been drinking it like this and you don't even like it." He rests his cheek against his hand. "I don't even _like_ coffee."

Hermione gasps, "You frequent a coffeeshoppe and you don't like _coffee_?" She shakes her head. "That's just sad."

He scowls at her, "I'm not likely to but tea at a coffeeshoppe, and besides, I only frequent it here because of... Potter. And now because of... you."

Hermione hums thoughtfully. "Harry told me all about your _conquests_ , by the way, so I already know that what you two get up to."

Draco blushes. He was sure she didn't know — and it was kind of awkward that she did. He nods his head, "Right. Well—"

"Do you like Harry?" And Hermione already knows the answer to this, of course. From what Pansy said last night and from when she asked Harry earlier that day.

Speaking of Harry, he was currently talking with Theodore Nott again. He catches her eye from behind the counter, and smirks.

Draco was blushing, "No... me and Potter don't have a romantic relationship of any kind." He says blandly. Honestly, this question was getting a little tired.

"Hmm, so no romantic relationships for you at the moment, then?" Hermione asks lightly, hoping she looked as nonchalant as she felt.

Draco starts, "Well... no." He clears his throat.

Hermione nods, "Right, got your eye on anyone then?"

Draco looks at his lap and clenches both of his hands on his knee. He wants to tell her — a lot, actually — but he feels almost... undeserving of her attentions. And she probably didn't even like him back, such was how unlucky he was.

He was overthinking this. "Not really, no." He says carefully.

"Oh." Hermione says, and frowns. Parkinson was _wrong_ , and she wasn't really expecting Draco to just tell her, not really. But the admission still makes her stomach feel like lead, so she nods. "Right."

She pretends to check her watch, gasps, wants to make a quick getaway. Because Parkinson was wrong, and she probably liked Draco Malfoy a bit too much than she probably should.

And there was the fact that he was the sole heir to one of the richest families and Europe, so probably had his pick of girls and she was — she was _overthinking_ this, and it was absurd. He didn't have his eye out for anyone, it wasn't like he was rejecting her, no matter how much she felt like he was.

"Gosh, the time, I need to go — Ron's probably looking for me." She lies, gritting her teeth. She stands up and starts putting her things in her bag, not wanting to spend any time with Draco and his stupid perfect face anymore.

Draco stands up, "Do you want me to go with you?" Hermione shakes her head.

"No, no, it's alright — I just." Hermione shakes her head. "It's alright."

She runs out the door faster than he can catch her.

Well fuck.

* * *

Draco was willing to bet his inheritance that Hermione Granger just ran away from him — and that was almost embarrassing. It left him with far too many things to think about.

Pansy came into the coffeeshoppe a few minutes after Hermione did, and by then he was already sitting at their usual table and staring out the window.

Pansy drags the chair in front of him out, and the sound it makes is enough to make him flinch. He looks at her, she is frowning.

"What're you thinking about?" she asks, laying her head in her hands.

"I think Hermione just ran away from me." he says.

If Pansy was surprised, she doesn't show it. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Draco considered this. He thinks he doesn't — except this is Pansy. And he always talks to Pansy about these things, ever since they were tiny little children.

"I don't know what happened." Draco says carefully. "I don't know what I did wrong. I'm probably overthinking it."

"You do that a lot, yeah." Pansy hums. "But it probably wasn't that — maybe she just has somewhere to be."

He smirks bitterly. "That's what she told me as well."

Pansy shakes her head, and he looks at her. "What are you planning on doing?"

He thinks the more fitting question was _what are you doing_? because he feels like he's just falling through an endless pool of stupid decisions.

* * *

Pansy and Draco talk about stupid things for a while, but then it's nine in the evening and he needs to get home and get some work done. So he says his goodbyes to Pansy, assures her he'll be okay tonight, and walks down the road heading to his apartment.

He passes by the flowershoppe and stops in the middle of the side walk. There was a man with flaming red hair wearing an apron, someone he was pretty sure was Ron Weasley, and a familiar figure with messy black hair.

He considers going inside for a moment, even though he doesn't really have an actual reason to go and greet them — it wasn't as if he and Weasley were friends or anything even remotely resembling that, and he and Potter didn't really talk much outside of the pool, or the bedroom. And he _quit_ swimming last year, so it wasn't as if they even talked much at all anymore.

He shakes his head and furrows his brows. Right, overthinking it. He was overthinking it.

He steps inside the flowershoppe.

The door chime above him jingles, and both Weasley and Potter look up at him. Weasley puts down the bouquet that he was arranging and Potter was frowning at him. He has no doubt that they knew something about Hermione, and he swallows his spit.

"Malfoy." Potter says, nodding. "Fancy seeing you here."

"I don't know what I'm doing here either." Draco says, frowning. He pulls a chair from in front the island and sits down next to Potter.

"How have you been?" Weasley asks, looking at him wearily. He fiddles around with a gold ribbon.

Draco shrugs, "I've been better."

Weasley nods, "That's good. That's — good." He turns his attention back to the bouquet and ties it up with a neat little bow.

"I didn't know you worked here." Draco hedges, genuinely curious.

Weasley shrugs, and Potter looks at the both of them shrewdly. "Just wanted to do something in my spare time."

Potter actually snorts, and Weasley looks at him. "What?" He spits out, eyebrows furrowed in irritation.

"He liked doing flower arrangements." He says. "It reminds him of — well..." He trails off as Weasley gives him a warning look.

Draco, who's already fully invested in this trail of conversation, asks, "Who?"

Weasley looks at the both of them and blushes, looking away. "Luna."

Draco straightens up, "Lovegood?"

The Lovegoods owned a trail of flowershoppes around town in addition to one of the best-selling, if not peculiar, magazines in town — The Quibbler. It was odd that Weasley would be working for them, though.

Luna was Xenophilius Lovegood's only child, the heir to the fortune.

She died last year in a car crash.

"Yes." Weasley hisses. "But it's not — I—"

Potter bites his lip, and looks at the floor. "We were both quite close with Luna." He says, quietly.

Draco blinks at the both of them, wonders why they were sharing this with him.

"I don't understand." He tries, frowning.

"This is one of Xeno's shoppes. Me and Luna used to work here." Weasley says. "It obviously wasn't for the money — i think you know Luna was kind of... an oddball. But after our shifts we would go to the coffeshoppe and..."

Weasley looks at an apron in the corner, identical to his, except it had _Luna_ embroidered in the big pocket in the front. "I miss her sometimes. I feel like a coward for not—"

"—Ron, I didn't mean to — you know you don't have to—"

"Harry it's fine. It's done." Weasley frowns, shaking his head. "It's been... it's been a while, hasn't it? I want to talk about it with someone who isn't you or — or Hermione."

Draco's heart clenches in his chest. _Hermione._

"But with me?" Draco says, frowning.

Weasley smiles sardonically. "Yes, with you."

"Ron—"

"It's _fine_ , Harry. I just—" Weasley exhales slowly. "I wish I could told her how I felt. I — I miss her. Everyday."

Weasley shakes his head, and finishes tying the bow on the bouquet. He hands it to Draco, "Give this to Hermione."

Potter looks shocked, but then smiles softly. Draco frowns.

"Weasley—"

"My name is _Ron._ " He says, sighing. "And this is _Harry_."

Draco nods. "Right. Ron... I couldn't possibly just take this."

"I'll pay for it. I have money."

Draco smirks, "New money."

Weasley huffs. "Who the fuck cares?" Draco lets out an indelicate snort. "Anyways, I know you have someone to give this to."

Draco cocks his head to the side. "Do I?"

Potter rolls his eyes. "Yeah, and for the record, Hermione likes M&Ms and apple juice. There's a store down the street."

"You presume a lot." Draco says, taking the bouquet and standing up. "But thank you, the both of you."

They wear twin smirks, and shoo him out of the flowershoppe.

The air outside is cold.

* * *

After he buys some of those horrid chocolate candies and a jug of apple juice, he finds himself standing in front of Hermione's dorm room, contemplating if he should knock or not. He reminds himself that has nothing to lose — and consequently _hopes_ that it's the truth, although it's probably not.

Still, he can't help but wonder if he was looking too much into things and if Harry and Ron were wrong about this. He grips the flowers in his hand tighter and inhales the stale, hallway air.

He would do this, and if it turns out badly, he will _deck_ those bloody bastards.

He knocks on Hermione's door.

There is a faint thudding sound, like footsteps, and the door creaks as it opens and reveals Hermione inside. She looks ruffled, like she wasn't expecting anyone to knock — he probably disturbed her, or something.

He knows that isn't true because her eyes are tinged red.

"Draco... what're you doing here?" Hermione says, her voice coming out as a croak. She clears her voice and blushes. 

"Well, uh..." and then he looks at the bouquet that he is holding and wonders if this _was_ a bad idea. Hermione looks down too, and blushes even redder. 

"I brought you a — peace offering." He settles, holding up the bouquet and the bad he was holding.

Hermione gnaws at her lip, "You didn't — I don't know why you're doing this."

Draco stills, "Well you seemed quite upset with me earlier and I wanted to make amends."

She shakes her head and closes her arms in around herself. Draco resists the urge to run away because this was going kind of embarrassingly. "I wasn't upset --- I don't know what you're talking about."

Draco raises a petulant brow and huffs when she looks unfazed.

"You ran away from me." He accuses. Hermione blushes again. "I just want to know what I did—" He knows exactly what he did. "—and hopefully make amends."

"You did nothing wrong, Draco." She assures, then shakes her head. "I just... well."

She opens the door wide enough for her to step out, and closes it behind her as she slips into the hallway. She turns around and is suddenly face to chest with Draco. He blushes and steps back, clearing his throat. What the fuck was that?

But Hermione is smiling up at him timidly — shyly, like she's not sure if she's allowed to smile at him in that way, and Draco thinks that he wants her to smile like that at him _always_ , and it disarms him enough that he has to control himself as to not gasp out.

Because she is beautiful. She has always been beautiful.

"I know you haven't been — I mean — you aren't interested in... anyone, right now. But I am and—" Draco's heart plummets to his stomach, mind bringing up flashes of Hermione kissing some bloke that _isn't him_ , and he thinks he's about to be sick.

"Oh." Draco says, letting his arms fall to his sides. "Right."

He turns around, but then Hermione is grasping the sleeve of his arm, tugging him to face her again. He looks at her again slowly. "—it's you I fancy." She says breathlessly, and her eyes are bright and her cheeks are red.

Draco exhales slowly, shocked even though he was expecting this, kind of. He didn't know it would feel like this.

"I like you too..." He says, smiling. He hands out the bouquet and the bag again, and Hermione giggles, shaking her head.

She smirks at him mischieviously, "So what if you... came in and we watched a movie?"

He does.

He stays the night.

And the weekend.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave some kudos if you liked it and maybe... comment... maybe.


End file.
